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As We're Reborn

#1
Emma Offline
It was the ripping of pages that startled her awake. 

A foreseeable thing, really. The handmade journal she favored (arguably piece of art in itself largely due in part to the haphazardly bound homemade rice paper, newspaper scraps, and whatever bits and pieces she’d found herself writing upon) didn’t have a formidable skeleton - let alone much of a spine at all. Any wind with even the threat of gusto would be (and was) enough to tear a page or two from its shoddy bindings.

Lurching into an earthbound consciousness, Emma focused her gaze to the flurrying paper tempest.

She jumped immediately to her feet. Reaching desperately for the closest page in sight, and catching only a word or two of the nearly illegible scrawl staining its grooves,  she stuffed it back into the book. And then another, and another. Ripped paper and lonely words. 

Hollow is a mattress on the floor, tangled sheets a deep maroon, a chokehold--

--no more, no more, no more--

--an explosion...sticky peach schnapps and honeycrisp apples, a bruised throat and lungs scraped, lungs bleeding, lungs rotten to the very core--

Sunlight glinted pointedly off her watchface: 4:47PM.

Oh, to hell with the pages. Perhaps Caroline wasn’t quite ready to have her story shared. 

Surrendering her work to a grave of its own (appropriate, given her surroundings), Emma shoved what remained of her notebook into a backpack and scurried out of the rusted, rickety cemetery gates. Several times during her hurried walk onto the main street, she forced herself to check (and recheck) the address saved to her phone, not quite trusting her head. Despite the distance, growing with every step, she still felt all too firmly (a headstone of her own) planted in the thick, damp air at the foot Miss Caroline Evers’ resting site. 

January 6th, 1994 - May 23rd, 2018. 

Precious Are The Memories Of Our Beloved Daughter, Cherished Friend 

A street, a driveway. A door. Emma knocked. She knocked until she heard footfalls from the other side and saw the twist of a knob.

“Sorry I'm late,” she blurted out hurriedly, desperate to spit out the apology before its full opening. “I’m Emma. I messaged you about the pickup? The otter?”


Cordelia
Witch

Played by: Meg

Age: 27

Species: Human

Power: Necromancy

Posts: 12
#2
Cordelia Offline
As a disciple of technology, Cordelia had a master-crafted online persona. The woman behind the screen was well-spoken, elegant, successful, and serene -- decidedly everything she was not. But through words and pictures an illusion of strength solidified into armor she wore proudly. Emma's insistence of picking up her order in person was as good as a spear piercing through a weakened chink in that precious metal.

On more than one occasion she'd picked up her phone, bony fingers hovering over touch keys, itching to form an excuse that would let her cancel. But this was business. Cordelia could watch her personal life rot away from neglect, but she wouldn't allow her business to share the same fate.

Having fussed over the otter for most of the morning, it took a moment for Delia to register the knocking at the door. She'd finished the piece weeks ago, but ever since she'd realized that she would be witness to Emma's first impression of her work she'd grown obsessive. "Coming!" waving her hand by way of instant forgiveness. Delia stepped to the side, welcoming the other woman into her home.

"H-Hello." A long pause stretched out between them like a cat in a spot of sunshine. The quiet lazed and lingered as she worked at the words caught in her throat.

"I wasn't s-s-sure how you w-wan-wanted him pack-ackaged. I can wrap him up if h-he's a g-g-gift."

Whatever armor she had, she wasn't wearing it now.
Witch

Played by: Lyss

Age: 26

Species: Witch

Power: Midas Touch

Posts: 7
#3
Emma Offline
Emma didn't do the internet.

Really, aside from email, the odd Instagram (though she had exactly zero postings to her name), and the regular online obituary read-through, she hardly had anything to do with it. She much preferred her interactions to be separated by a rough six feet of packed soil - not by a screen. The internet was just too cold. Impersonal.

Dead, for a lack of a better word - though the irony didn’t escape her.

Still, even Cordelia Winfield in the flesh wasn't the type of interaction that typically suited Emma. Though reading her face was still better than reading a pixelated page. Not that it mattered much; Cordelia wasn't really the intended focus of the afternoon.

"Oh, no, thank you," Emma replied smoothly, nearly buzzing with anticipation as she stepped into the home’s dim foyer. If she even noticed Cordelia's stutter, it didn't show. No lingering stare, no amused twitch of the lip. Cordelia wasn't any more or less difficult to understand than most people.

"I'd like to meet him first, if that's alright."
Witch

Played by: Meg

Age: 27

Species: Human

Power: Necromancy

Posts: 12
#4
Cordelia Offline
Cordelia felt the air around her dip, an uneasy mix between a shiver and a sizzle. The space undulated around them, making room for the magic they toted along, though Delia was miserably ignorant of it. The woman lived in chunky, over-sized sweaters, the easier to hide in, the better. Given her hobby-turned-profession, she kept her apartment chilly, cracking a window in the middle of Winter from time to time. All of this was to say that she was used to the occasional chill, and tossed away the change in air as such.

Stepping to the side, she gestured to the room down the hall in lieu of guiding her with words. The otter rested on her dining table, a surface that had seen more corpses (animal, of course) than it had plated dinners. She'd posed the otter in a natural state of play, using a piece of driftwood she'd found on a recent trip to Long Island as a stand. 

The stitches were meticulous, the work careful and precise, but as Cordelia stood behind her customer all she saw on the table was a gross sum of mistakes. "If y-you s-s-see so--omething you d-d-don't like, I can ch-ch- change it."
Witch

Played by: Lyss

Age: 26

Species: Witch

Power: Midas Touch

Posts: 7
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